MUSIC CAN HAVE such an effect on an audiobook. If you listen to our new Othello from the Donmar Warehouse, it must be said that Adam Cork’s incidental music plays a subtle but key role in supporting the drama. Much of the time we are so wrapped up in the tempestuous story that we may not notice the way the music is providing colour and edge. It was powerful in the theatre and is even more powerful in our audiobook recording.
And this is why music has been an integral part of Naxos AudioBooks since the very first release in 1994.
Beethoven Piano Trios and Hummel set the scene perfectly for Jane Austen’s novels (If I remember correctly, Hummel was to be found in her music book), drawing the picture of the Regency salon. And music of various kinds has given David Timson an exciting backdrop for the complete Sherlock Holmes. Sarah Butcher, who programmed most of the music, revelled in the challenge of matching another quartet or quintet from the nineteenth century repertoire to the next case of the master sleuth.
Some people don’t like music and words. I remember ringing one bookshop to ask if they had any Naxos AudioBooks on the shelves only to be greeted by the terse comment, ‘Are those the people who put music on books - certainly not!’
I understand the reservation. We don’t attempt to do it with unabridged novels on the whole, partly because I think people who want the complete text want only the complete text, and not additional production values; also, frankly, it would be a heady artistic challenge to put music effectively to a 28 CD Dickens novel such as Bleak House. We rarely put music to anything over 4 CDs, because sustaining it with taste becomes almost impossible!
And yet programming music for audiobooks is good fun! With something like The History of the Olympics we are directed by the context, of course: there is the national anthem, and then, if necessary, a defining piece of music. If it is Rome for the world cup (soccer), it must be Nessun Dorma (I know! I had the great fortune to be at the Three Tenors concert during the world cup, and I can tell you… in the balmy Roman night at Caracalla with the three singing their hearts out, it was an evening no one could forget!); And if it is Germany, it must be the Ride of the Valkyries or Beethoven. Subtlety is not the order of the day here.
For James Joyce, once again the text dictates the choice – Joyce was a fine musician himself, and music flows through a novel such as Ulysses or the short stories Dubliners: there is endless choice, from Mozart’s Don Giovanni to I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls.
Sometimes, the unexpected happens. Only the other day Caroline Waight (who has worked in our production office after finishing her music degree) was putting music to some Oscar Wilde (for next year…). And she carefully selected some Rossini. Rossini, you may ask? Surely not!
Yet actually it works… as you will find next year (we are working quite far ahead). And as Sue Arnold of the Guardian wrote in a recent review, the opening of Mahler’s massive Resurrection Symphony works surprisingly well as a curtain raiser for Tales from the Norse Legends, introducing The Creation of the World!
When I look back over nearly fifteen years of matching music and words, I do have some favourites. For me, the viol music of John Jenkins always means, Paradise Lost – next month we release The Essential John Milton to mark his 400th anniversary, and you will see what I mean. On a completely different note, the Japanese classic Hojoki, opens with the koto - particularly appropriate as the monk Chomei talks about playing the instrument (also released next month).
This peroration was prompted by Sue Arnold’s kind words, but also over a lunch with Keith Clarke, editor of Classical Music, who spoke approvingly of the choice of music in the recording of Lawrence Durrell’s The Alexandria Quartet. The sensuous, impressionistic sound world of Debussy and Ravel with a touch of Piazzola expressed the cultural melange of pre-War Alexandria.
But what do YOU think? Do you like the music on our audiobooks? Classic literature with classical music was our strapline for many years, and I still feel a fondness for it, though our increasing involvement in complete texts means more releases without music. Let us know what you think.
NOTE:
The essay below was written by the award-winning filmmaker Tony Palmer, whose superb catalog is a legend (as is he). Naxos of America began distribution of his films in January; however, some of the films which he references in his essay are not–as yet–distributed by us (the Margot Fonteyn, Britten, Stravinsky, Richard Burton and Testimony–his film about Dmitri Shostakovich).
For those two people who may not know much about Tony Palmer, Palmer has made many iconic films including All You Need is Love (a 17-part series about the history of popular music), All My Loving, 200 Motels, the acclaimed Wagner film (with Burton/Redgrave, etc), Callas (portrait and tribute to the great singer), O Thou Transcendent: The Life of Ralph Vaughan Williams (his most recent film), several films about composer Benjamin Britten (including his production of Death in Venice), Puccini, The Salzburg Festival - A Brief History, Testimony (about composer Dmitri Shostakovich, starring Ben Kingsley), and Parsifal, which featured Placido Domingo. I’m including the link to his website here, as I’ve only listed a precious few of his cinematic accomplishments. His career spans over 40 years, during which time he has won 40 international prizes for his work, including 12 Gold Medals at the New York Film & Television Festival, as well as numerous BAFTA (British Academy of Film & Television) and EMMY nominations and awards. He is the only person to have won the Prix Italia twice.
As of this posting, Naxos of America distributes five of his classical titles: O Thou Transcendent: The Life of Ralph Vaughan Williams, Callas, Symphony of Sorrowful Songs: Symphony No. 3 (Gorecki), Puccini, and God Rot Tunbridge Wells(a film about Handel featuring renowned actor Trevor Howard).
I am fascinated by artists whose lives display phenomenal courage - physical, psychological and moral – the kind of courage that most of us are incapable of. To stand naked upon a stage, whether as an actor or a singer or a dancer, and have nothing but your skill and self-belief to protect you, is an experience that no-one who has not done so can begin to understand. Nor the incredible sacrifices that every performer is forced to make in order to achieve that moment of perfection and magic that we all demand and worship.
Maria Callas, a broken woman, sings of her insecurities with a searing honesty that transcends mere singing. Shostakovich, who endured unimaginable horrors to tell us all, and for all time, what life was like under the monster Stalin. Richard Burton, the 12th of 13 children, determined to make it out of the coal mines to which his family seemed condemned, buying the biggest diamond in the world, an epileptic drinking himself and his talent to oblivion because the strain was so great. Puccini, whose life was torn apart by a scandal involving the suicide of his maid. Handel, blind, despairing, railing against all those who had stolen his copyrights. Margot Fonteyn, used and abused and betrayed from the age of 14 until almost the day she died, the greatest ballerina in the world, dying penniless in a tin shack and buried in a pauper’s grave. Scott Joplin, the son of slaves, struggling in a segregated and bigoted society, to write an opera! Bob Dylan, the greatest lyric poet of the second half of the 20th century, taking on almost single-handedly the mendacity of a militarised nation. Benjamin Britten, openly homosexual when it was illegal and punishable by imprisonment, driven by a terrible and haunting belief in his own worthlessness … the list is endless.
And these are the subjects of my films. And such subjects cannot be “encapsulated” in a television “slot.” I don’t care tuppence for the demands of cretinous and pompous “commissioning editors” of television companies whose attention spans are less than that of a flea. I refuse moreover to have any kind of commentary in my films. Unlike commissioning editors, the audience is not stupid. It resents being told what to think, especially by a whining (often female) voice uttering banalities. And as for the critics, many of them illiterate and ignorant, why should I care about such people?
The problem is, as Shostakovich memorably put it, “to reach the people. That is the question. But how is it done?” And without wishing to elevate the craft of making films beyond its ultimately menial level, it is perhaps worth pointing out that it is an essentially solitary occupation. As Orson Welles eloquently described it: it is “a collective endeavour, driven by a singular, blinding vision.” So to work occasionally in the theatre, especially the opera, is to be reminded of this collective endeavour and to hear, at first hand, an audience response. It can be exhilarating like no other sexual experience – I remember the first night of the Russian première of Parsifal, conducted by Gergiev. But it can also be humiliating – I remember a group of indolent, over-paid, English tubs of lard, thinking (it seemed to me) they were on holiday instead of performing, wrecking a production of Peter Grimes. Such experiences are necessary, however, because they are the closest one gets to the experiences that I have spent my life examining in my films.
Finally, I have never understood the difference between so-called “classical music” and “popular music.” Stravinsky once told me there were only three kinds of music, good music, bad music and non-music, and it doesn’t matter a damn if it’s a symphony, or jazz, or rock’n’roll. Later he refined this categorisation. “Only two musics,” he declared. And then he clenched his fist and said “That’s the first.” And then he opened the palm of his hand and stretched it towards me. “That’s the second,” he said.
I hope my films are the second.
–Tony Palmer
I’ve often debated the value of performance DVDs over recordings. Obviously, in many areas, especially opera, video recordings are invaluable documents. Since production values are intrinsic to so many operas today, unless you are lucky enough to be there, a DVD performance may be the only way to experience the entire production—not just the singing. However, pure performance DVDs can be a mixed bag. Unlike commercial films or opera productions (which require a massive film crew), a “straight” performance film director has to find interesting visuals to enhance what can be a fairly static format. Close-ups of hands, facial expressions, etc., are just the beginning. What do you do with a film that simply documents a performer sitting at his or her instrument in recital? Sometimes, there isn’t much that can be done. For a DVD to surpass an audio or live performance, I am looking for details beyond the playing–a visual clue that reveals something new about the artist. While I don’t think performance DVDs will ever completely replace recordings, I think that, more and more, they offer a unique perspective on the artist. And, sometimes, they are the only way to experience an artist in performance.
The Medici Arts label has just launched Classic Archive. The first offerings from this promising series feature DVD performances of two iconic Russian pianists, Sviatoslav Richter and Tatiana Nikolayeva, as well as the Bulgarian-born French pianist Alexis Weissenberg. Each of the documents provides lovers of these great artists with much to applaud and ideas to ponder.
Sviatoslav Richter (1915-1997) was, unquestionably, one of the greatest pianists of the 20th century (and one of my absolute personal favorites). A complicated and temperamental man, Richter hated being filmed. The performance documented on this DVD was from a Barbican recital in 1989. Richter, as many know, was known to cancel concerts at a moment’s notice. He also was unaware that this concert was to be filmed until just shortly before the performance. After a considerable and heated discussion, he agreed to the filming, on the condition that no camera would be in his field of vision. This challenge was overcome at the expense of the film crew, who were accustomed to expending thousands of watts of lighting power when televising such an event. Richter insisted on restricting the lighting to a single 40-watt bulb, focused not on him, but on his music. This eccentric lightening was unconventional even without cameras present, but it was his standard practice at concerts, as he wanted to focus maximum attention on the music and de-emphasize the importance of the performer. It also served to mask his use of a score, a practice he implemented in 1979 after a serious memory lapse at a concert.
In the film, it is clear that Richter is uncomfortable knowing cameras are present. On a number of occasions, he looks at the ceiling, presumably where one of the cameras was perched. What is perhaps most interesting about this film is watching a great artist clearly struggling with his demons and aging as he negotiates a solo recital. The Chopin portions of the recital are particularly interesting, as the selections from the Études, Op. 10 and Op. 25 shed light on Richter’s incredible genius and magnetism, and, at the same time, document the difficulties he faced in his later career. That said, Richter closes his Barbican recital with a towering performance of Chopin’s Étude, Op. 25/11 in A minor, which brings the house down, highlighting his legendary artistry. Richter enthusiasts also will enjoy comparing the Barbican performance of Chopin’s Étude, Op. 10, No. 4 to the one included in the bonus material, which features Richter at his peak in 1969.
This DVD includes performances of Mozart’s Piano Sonatas, K 282, K 545, and K 310; Chopin’s Études, Op. 10, No. 1 to No. 6 and No. 10 to No. 12, and Études, Op. 25, Nos. 5, 6, 8, and 11. Bonus material includes a BBC broadcast from 1969 with Richter performing Chopin’s Étude, Op. 10, Nos. 4 and 12; and Rachmaninoff’s Étude-Tableau, Op. 39, No. 3.
The distinguished pianist, composer, and teacher Tatiana Nikolayeva (1924-1993) represents the another example of the wealth of piano talent to flood from the former Soviet Union during the 20th century. Shostakovich’s cycle of 24 Preludes and Fugues always held a special place in her heart: she inspired and premiered it in Leningrad in 1952, and it was the piece she performed when she died in concert in San Francisco in 1993. She also made three recordings of the work. The lifelong friendship between Shostakovich and Nikolayeva began when the 26-year-old pianist won first prize at the 1950 Bach Piano competition, organized in Leipzig for the bicentennial of the German composer’s death. As a member of the jury, Shostakovich (1906-1975) was so impressed and inspired by her playing that he returned to Moscow to compose his own set of Preludes and Fugues in 1950-51. This DVD features a BBC broadcast recording from December 1992 of the complete cycle and includes more of Shostakovich’s music played by Tatiana Nikolayeva in a documentary bonus film. This document was perhaps the most straightforward of the three releases. Nikolayeva even at the end of her life was in complete command at the piano. Her technique and musicianship were flawless, and what came across so clearly in the film was that Shostakovich’s music was as much a part of her as breathing. After all, she had lived with it since the beginning, and it was written for her.
The final release was, in some ways, the most interesting of the three. I will go on record now as saying I never loved Weissenberg’s playing. I own some of his early Chopin recordings, which I never liked. And, after watching this DVD, I confess I still don’t like his Chopin. However, this DVD, which is taken from several sources, is perhaps the most rich of the three releases. Alexis Weissenberg, who was born in 1929 in Sofia, Bulgaria, studied both in Bulgaria and Jerusalem before attending The Juilliard School, where he studied with famed pedagogue Olga Samaroff (conductor Leopold Stokowki’s first wife).
This archival DVD includes a 1965 film by Swedish filmmaker and former assistant to Ingmar Bergman, Åke Falck, which shows Mr. Weissenberg performing Stravinsky’s Petrushka Suite. The shooting took 10 days and required a special “silent” piano be built; Weissenberg performed in sync with a playback of his actual performance, while he listened through loudspeakers set at a distance from him (the viewer learns much more about the making of the film in the bonus material). The result is an amazing feat of both pianism and filmmaking, which brings the complexity of Stravinsky’s fiendishly difficult piano score into sharp focus (the composer transcribed the Petrushka Suite note-for-note from the orchestral version). It is, in some ways, very much a music video. There are wild shots of Weissenberg’s massively powerful hands as they negotiate the length and breadth of the instrument. From registral leaps to huge chords, nothing is too difficult for Mr. Weissenberg’s prodigious technique. He is perfect for this music, and Falck’s film really shows an artist who is one with his craft in a visually arresting way. Another highlight of this DVD is Weissenberg’s performance of Dame Myra Hess’ arrangement of Bach’s Jesus, Joy of Man’s Desiring (taken from a September 25, 1969 Broadcast). He delivers the Bach in a wonderfully Lisztian manner, giving an immense power and majesty to this often understated work.
In addition to Stravinsky’s Three Movements from Petrushka, the film includes other archival performances taken from various broadcast sources from the 1960s, featuring repertoire including Prokofiev’s Piano Sonata No. 3; Scriabin’s Nocturne for the Left Hand, Op. 9, No. 2; Rachmaninoff’s Prelude, Op. 23, No. 6; Chopin’s Piano Sonata No. 3 - Largo, Nocturne Op. Posth. in C minor, Étude, Op. 25, No. 7; J.S. Bach’s Chromatic Fantasy, BWV 903, Partita No. 6 – Courante; and the Brahms Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat, Op. 83, with the Orchestre National de l’ORTF, Georges Prêtre, conductor – 8/31/69.
Peter Schickele (aka P.D.Q. Bach) opened they year’s ASCAP Concert Music Awards with a sobering warning about string players being careful about their instruments being lost or stolen, “How do you keep your violin from getting stolen? Put it in a viola case.” Seven more viola jokes followed.
Each year ASCAP presents the Morton Gould Young Composers Award. It’s an opportunity for young rising star composers to win some prize money and a much valued boost in status. I attended the ceremony with composer Alex Kotch who was being honored that night. Of course the Concert Music Awards ceremony also honors established composers, musicians, and directors for their significant contribution to classical music. Among this year’s honorees were Joseph Jennings (composer and director of Chanticleer), David Lang (educator and composer), compoer John Corigliano and conductor JoAnn Falletta.
After receiving their medal the young composers had a short excerpt of their work played while each of the established honorees gave a short speech. Their speeches were just about the most gracious and touching I’ve ever heard. Falletta, a Naxos artist and conductor of the Buffalo Philharmonic, told a particularly inspiring story about Corigliano, who was doing a one-week residency with the Buffalo Philharmonic during a brutal cold snap in March. During this time the orchestra premiered and recorded his “Three Hallucinations from “Altered States” / Mr. Tambourine Man: Seven Poems of Bob Dylan”. Falletta recounted how the collaboration breathed new life into the orchestra and the city of Buffalo. She said the city was as excited about classical music as she’d ever seen.
The Corigliano/Falletta recording will be available from Naxos later this year. You can find albums featuring performances and music from such ASCAP award presenters as Schickele, Falletta, Corigliano, David Del Tredici, Steven Burke, Sebastian Currier, Stephen Paulus, and David Lang on Naxos.com and Classicsonline.com. However, there are no viola jokes.
ONE OF THE FEATURES of an independent publishing company or record label is that individuals or odd ideas suddenly appear and adroitly bypass procedures. This has certainly been true of Naxos AudioBooks throughout its fourteen years. Many contributions, large and small, coming from unexpected quarters have made it what it is: the list itself demonstrates that it was often created apart from committee or consensus!
I meet someone by chance, face to face or by some other serendipity… or someone writes on the off-chance… and we move into an unexpected direction. This has been such a feature of Naxos AudioBooks that to name all these occasions and/or people would tend towards a history rather than a blog. But just looking at a few writers shows how often it has happened.
There is Ian Johnston, a remarkably prolific translator of Ancient Greek and German: his Homer has proved extremely effective on audiobook; his translation of sections from the Nichomachean Ethics in Aristotle: An Introduction is extremely clear; and all praise to his Nietzsche - Beyond Good and Evil comes in July. More Johnston translations will appear on the Naxos AudioBooks list, I am sure.
And sometimes I have been fortunate in coming across a hidden talent while working in the studio. David Timson is a fine example: clearly an accomplished actor, supreme in Sherlock Holmes, he also proved to be accomplished in other areas: he directs, writes and even sings! Just last week he recorded a song for our new recording of The Merchant of Venice due for release in October with Anthony Sher as Shylock.
This month sees the release of Volume 3 of David’s ongoing series Stories from Shakespeare. Essentially, this is intended to introduce Shakespeare’s plays to a younger audience. I remember well being given Charles and Mary Lamb’s précis of the plays – a dusty book which only too often I found rather unsatisfactory, even at the age of ten. Other, more modern, versions have been written, but never one designed for audiobook – and, frankly, there can be no better way to introduce plays! David (for whom Shakespeare has been the principal thread in a busy performing life) pays careful attention to the plots and characters but also incorporates many of the main speeches (unadulterated!) into his re-telling of each play. This third volume contains Much Adoabout Nothing, Antony and Cleopatra, Measure for Measure, and others…
This month also sees the start of a new series – actually, a free series! Peter Whitfield, a prolific and interesting writer, has written a volume of introductions to major works of world literature and world figures. It is, it must be said, a rather gentlemanly diversion in an eighteenth-century way: diverse essays on topics which have clearly meant a lot to him.
Peter sent me his collection of essays called A Universe of Books and it sat on my desk for a bit, along with other unsolicited material and (many) demo CDs from actors. Being of large format, and taking up a lot of space, it demanded attention… and at the end of one day I dipped into it. I was quickly hooked: the easy writing style allied to an intelligent view on the subject made these more than just a set of workaday introductions.
We set up a meeting in Oxford during the Literary Festival and discussed a series of short recordings. By coincidence, Peter had recorded his pilot at the same studio (just outside Oxford) as that in which Anton Lesser has recorded many of his recentunabridged Dickens. Peter proved a natural reader, and some of his essays are now available for you to enjoy via the website. More will follow each month.
I urge you to download! I am sure it will encourage new readers/listeners to the topics he discusses; and those who have already read or listened to the works chosen will find it worthwhile to spend some time with Peter Whitfield.
For those of you who are fans of violinist Philippe Quint he will be interviewed on the television program Night Talk that airs on Bloomberg Television this evening (05.29.08) at 10 PM ET. http://www.bloomberg.com/tvradio/tv/
To listen to the episodes from the respective Podcast you will need to have Adobe's FLASH player installed. Please use Adobe's web page to choose the appropriate version to install for your platform.
MUSIC CAN HAVE such an effect on an audiobook. If you listen to our new Othello from the Donmar Warehouse, it must be said that Adam Cork’s incidental music plays a subtle but key role in supporting the drama. Much of the time we are so wrapped up in the tempestuous story that we may not notice the way the music is providing colour and edge. It was powerful in the theatre and is even more powerful in our audiobook recording.
For James Joyce, once again the text dictates the choice – Joyce was a fine musician himself, and music flows through a novel such as Ulysses or the short stories Dubliners: there is endless choice, from Mozart’s Don Giovanni to I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls.
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ONE OF THE FEATURES
This month also sees the start of a new series – actually, a 
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